


Birds of Paradise

by Jeffles



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Intimacy, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23746996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeffles/pseuds/Jeffles
Summary: A political tyrant. A magical island. An ancient war with monsters. Harry and Macy's first romantic getaway just got a little more exciting. This story takes place after the events of Season 2, Episode 18 ("Don't Look Back In Anger"). I'll keep writing if you keep liking it, so please leave feedback!
Relationships: Harry Greenwood & Macy Vaughn, Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

It’s an election season on the archipelago.

Every night, uncles gather in plastic chairs by the side of the road, drinking rum and debating political issues. They argue until late at night, leaving piles of cigarettes and ash to mark their place. 

This happens every ten years on the big island, and every ten years for the last thirty years, the man called Kabi was elected leader of the archipelago. Although there were challengers promising new industries, new hospitals, and even new people, the archipelago has remained the same. And this is the one thing all the islands and all of its tribes could agree on.

That is, until Tagaro appears.

\----

The sun is setting on the small island. 

Children scurry up dirt roads, carrying leather balls and swinging buckets of the day’s catch. They are followed by weary fathers and brothers, sore and sweaty from harvesting and hunting in the jungle. Large blankets are unfurled in the windows of stores and gathering places, marking close of business.

Inside a small bungalow by the beach, there is a flash of light. 

It only takes a touch for Harry to orb another person with him. But this time is different. With his arms wrapped tightly around Macy, she feels both foreign and familiar. Even after they spiral into the bungalow, Harry and Macy remain entwined, synchronizing their breaths, appreciating how perfectly their bodies nestle together.

“What do you say we get settled?” Harry whispers, nuzzling into Macy’s wild curls.

“Where are we, Harry?” Macy turns to face him, preferring to study the contours of his face rather than take in their new surroundings. 

“Somewhere only we know.”

A grand four-poster bed with draped sheers welcomes the new couple to their own private paradise. This was no ordinary rondavel. Part hut and part beach fale, the salty ocean breeze enters through a gap between the walls and the thatched coconut roof. Outside the doorway, jungle ferns frame the veranda while ginger flowers and pygmy palms lead the way to silky white sands and clear blue surf. Purple clouds with brilliant pink underbellies stretch towards the horizon.

“Macy, I’ve been waiting--” Harry starts.

“Shh.” Macy gently holds a finger to Harry’s lips and turns her eyes towards the beach. 

Straining her ears, Macy could hear it: the beat of several tamtams. A cheerful melody from a panpipe. Then, the rhythmic splashing of water, followed by the faint sound of chanting.

“What’s that music?” Macy’s curiosity propels her towards the doorway, but Harry spins her back towards him with a gentle tug of her hand.

“They’re thanking the water goddess for a good day’s catch, and asking the moon goddess to bless their slumber tonight.”

“That’s...amazing.” Macy’s voice trails off. Harry’s face in the twilight steals her breath. His thoughtful brows, his warm eyes. 

_ All I need is a look. Like this. Eye to eye. And I’ll know. I’ll just know.  _

His strong, handsome nose. Those lips, always slightly agape.

_ I want you, Harry Greenwood. _

A face that Macy first noticed in the dim light of the attic that assured her, no matter what, she’ll always be safe.

_ You didn’t just break through those walls. You melted them. _

Harry brings up Macy’s hand, and begins to sway her to the music. He plucks a hibiscus from one of several garlands hanging from the roof truss and tucks it behind her ear. Their bare feet tip toe along the iridescent shell tile as lightning bugs twinkle around them.

How could a love story feel like an eternity of love stories...but only have just begun?

\----

Morning on the island was sudden, and loud. 

Spotted grice snort and squeal as they take to the water. Lightning birds call out to each other in shrill tweets. Children laugh and play on their way into town.

Harry is first to wake, startled by the urgent yelling of women orchestrating a fishing expedition just outside the rondavel. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Harry returns his arm to its original position, draped over Macy’s ribcage. He feels her naked chest heave with breath and studies the smooth contours of her face. For the first time in a long time, he feels human.

A bell rings just outside the wall.

Harry shakes Macy awake, and she quickly fashions a sarong from one of the bed linens while Harry wrestles himself into his discarded shorts from the night before. 

“Come in!” Macy calls out, surprised to hear her own voice still gravely with sleep.

“Macy! So wonderful of you to finally visit us!” The woman sings as she enters the hut, headed straight towards the veranda, where she sets down a tray of food.

Turning to Macy, the woman pulls her into an embrace. “I’m Nevin.”

Nevin’s eyes are large, her lips are full, and her skin is deep brown. She wears a tiered bark skirt, a leaf sash, and no shirt. Around her short, blonde afro is an intricate crown of flowers, grass, and fern leaves which she removes and places on Macy’s head. Nevin also produces a necklace of shells and bones, which she hangs around Macy’s neck. Admiring her work, Nevin nods towards Harry.

“Harry. I hope you’re finding your accommodations...suitable.” Nevin gestures towards the intricate woodwork composing the room’s furniture, the fine textile rugs and linens, and the painted rafters.

“Far exceeds my expectations.” Harry remarked graciously.

“Very well then,” Nevin turned on her heel with a smile. “Welcome to the isle of witches.”

\----

Tagaro slams the day’s newspaper on his kitchen table, which at the moment, serves as the headquarters for his campaign. His campaign manager, a businessman named Aritea, is consumed by the opinion pieces, tapping his cigarette into a coffee cup between page turns.

“I’m telling you, Tag,” Aritea says with his Western accent, “the islands don’t want your change.”

“They want change.” Tagaro barked, “The people are impoverished!”

“They don’t see it that way.”

“I would rather drop out of the race than become the laughing stock of this election cycle.”

“If you drop out of the race, you’re guaranteed to become the laughing stock of this election cycle.”

“Then what’s the move, Ari?”

“You convince them that change is good.”

“Don’t you think that’s what I’ve been trying to do?”

“No, I’m talking about a specific kind of change.”

“What kind of change?”

“Why are the people impoverished?”

“Because we’ve decimated our natural resources. We’ve polluted our environment.”

“And what’s your solution?”

“Technology.”

“And that’s the problem. Our people are still scared of technology. But do you know what they’re not scared of?”

“Magic.”

“That’s right. And do you know where there’s plenty of magic?”

“Polofiti.”

“Yes, Witch Island.”


	2. Witches and Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as Macy and Harry begin to settle in to their tropical getaway, disaster strikes. Feedback, suggestions, and prompts are welcome!

“What is this stuff again?” Macy gingerly peels back banana leaves, revealing a sticky rice cake.

“I don’t know. Coconut...something?” Distracted, Harry reaches over to pick a crumb from her hair.

“And what’s this?” Macy holds up a tiny silver carafe.

“Syrup?”

“It’s thick...and orange.”

“Guava syrup?”

Macy rolls her eyes, then dips her finger into the carafe and holds it out to Harry, but Harry jerks his head back. They’d gotten more and more intimate over the past few days, but even so - he is still an Englishman. Macy frowns at him, disappointed. Not more than a moment later, Harry sucks the syrup off her finger, holding it between his teeth for effect.

“Ow!” Macy giggles, yanking her hand back.

“You offered.” Harry shrugs.

Macy sits back in her wicker chair, scanning the waterline and watching fishing boats bobbing off shore. 

“So this is an island of...witches?” Macy takes a sip of her champagne-spiked jackfruit juice.

“Well actually, it’s an island of spirits. The witches are merely the guardians.”

“Huh.”

“Most of the flora and fauna are thought to have gone extinct, or are thought to not have existed at all.”

“Fascinating.” Macy marvels, studying a nearby tree lobster the size of her hand, decorated with spectacular coloring and scuttling along the floor.

Instinctively, Harry makes a move to squash the bug with his flip flop.

“DON’T!” Macy screams, accidentally activating her powers and hurling Harry clear across the veranda. Harry lands in a dwarf palm, his wicker chair cracked over his head. 

Macy rushes to his side. “I’m so sorry Harry! Are you ok?”

“I suppose I deserved that.” Harry mutters, massaging his neck as he comes to.

“It’s just...these are rare creatures, and I’m a scientist. I’m sworn to protect them.”

“Like I said. I deserved that.” Harry pulls Macy down, appreciates the smallness of her waist, the firmness of her abdomen, and presses his lips to hers. 

Although Harry’s fingers were slightly rough from canoeing the day before, Macy relishes in their strength, and tastes the syrup still on his tongue. 

The long days and balmy nights on the island have made them wild. The new spark between them have made them carnal. 

“Now go on, Jane Goodall,” Harry smiles, “we have a day ahead of ourselves.”

\----

Macy and Harry hold hands as they navigate the busy market.

Here, there’s an overwhelming abundance of everything: exotic flowers, oversized fruits, wild game - the likes of which both scared and delighted Harry and Macy.

It strikes Macy that all the local merchants, butchers, and fishmongers are women.

“It’s a matriarchal society here,” Harry explains, “The women run the island. They run business, they run politics, they’re the defenders, and they’re the healers. It’s been like this for centuries.”

“Wow,” Macy marvels, “A paradise in more ways than one.”

“A true Amazon.” Harry winks.

“Did they answer to The Elders?”

“No. They worked out a deal with The Elders long ago.”

“What kind of deal?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue. All I know is that they pay The Elders no mind, and The Elders pay them no mind.”

“Hm.” Macy ruminates, until something catches her eye.

“This would look stunning on you, dear.” An old, toothless woman wearing an intricate lei and a patterned headscarf presents an exquisite collar necklace.

Macy hesitates and looks at Harry for assurance.

“It would be rude not to try it on.” He gestures, before frantically digging in his pockets for his wallet. 

The collar is made of polished white bone, carved into the shape of a snake. The snake’s head and tail are solid gold, and a gold hinge allows the snake to wrap around Macy’s slender neck. Its head is inlaid with turquoise, and two black pearls mark its eyes. 

“I-I can’t afford this.” Macy stutters, admiring the piece in a nearby mirror.

“You take it.” The woman offers.

“Oh no. Oh absolutely not. I have to pay you something.”

“It wants to be yours.”

Macy is stunned, not quite sure how to answer.

“I will be paid.” The woman assures her. 

“I’ll come back. With cash. Just give me a day.” Macy insists. “Tell me your name so I can find you again.”

“My name is Ayanna.”

“Thank you, Ayanna,” Macy bows with gratitude as Harry ushers her away from the table before any other precious items catch her eye.

The afternoon stretches on, a surreal dream state of pure elation. 

Local children teach them traditional songs and dances. They witness a prayer ceremony while sipping kava on the beach. A group of young men engages them in a soccer-like sport with woven leather balls. Harry playfully tackles Macy to the warm sand, risking a penalty just to touch her, their sweat mixing as they kiss. Instinctively, Macy checks her neck to make sure the snake necklace is intact. 

It remains on her neck as they make love in the rondavel until lightning bugs fill the room once again.

\----

A shadow flits across a brick wall in an alley.

Tagaro lights another cigarette. 

“No games, popobawa.” Tagaro chokes on his own voice, but blames the cigarette and forces out a brief cough.

The shadow scales a nearby dumpster. From his periphery, Tagaro spies the outline of enormous bat wings.

“Do not think that you are the only one I’ve made this offer to.”

Two ram’s horns cast a shadow on the ground.

“Why have you summoned me?”

“We each need something from the other.”

“I don’t need anything from you.” The voice is hoarse and irate.

“What if I told you...that monsters can rule Polofiti again? That you no longer are banished to the dark parts of the island? That I can make the witches your slaves.”

The voice scoffs. “That hasn’t happened for ages.”

“What if I knew something you didn’t?”

“Stop wasting my time, Tagaro.”

Tagao can feel the hot breath on his face.

“The Council of Elders is no more. The witches of Polofiti are unprotected.”

The shadow ponders this for a moment. “What do you want, Tagaro?”

“I want a wife.”

“You’ll have to work on that on your own, then.”

“I want you to bring me a witch.”

“You want to marry a witch?”

“I want to own Polofiti!” Tagaro is surprised at the volume of his own voice, but continues, “If I marry a witch, I’ll be granted access to the island. From there, I can break the spell that protects it. When that happens, I have a militia ready to take it by force.”

“Why would I help you?”

“In return, I will give the island back to you and the other creatures and spirits. As long as you give me access to its resources.”

“Tempting, indeed. I will think it over.”

The shadow slinks away, leaving Tagaro alone once again in the alley.

\----

“Let’s play a game.” Macy sits at the steps to the veranda, watching the sun and moon share the same sky.

“What sort of game?” Harry slides himself behind her, placing a leg on either side of Macy and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He begins kissing her neck, making his way to her ear, when they hear a commotion starting closer to town.

They spring to their feet and hurry up the dirt path.

“What’s happened?” Harry approaches Nevin.

“My daughter. And Ayanna. They’re missing.”

“What do you mean missing?” Macy asks.

“I don’t know. According to her husband, Ayanna never came home from the market. My daughter Laeli went to fetch water from the well after dinner. We checked the well, and it’s empty. A child said that he saw the shadow of a monster, but--”

“But what?”

“But it can’t be. The Council of Elders banished the monsters.”

“Nevin.” Harry interrupts, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Macy puts a hand on Nevin’s shoulder. “The Council of Elders is dead.”

Nevin steps back in terror. She runs through the street, banging on doors and screaming “Do not leave your homes! The monsters are free!”

“Harry, we need to help Devin find Laeli and Ayanna.”  


Harry sucks in a deep and pensive breath. "Bugger."


End file.
